Friday, February 26, 2010

Wieners of the Week

People who study body language. There is one in every group of friends. Some wiener who read a book once or maybe did Psych 101, and now every time you cross your legs or fold your arms or scratch your nose they squeal with glee and go, "Oooh! Feeling a bit defensive, are we?" "Ooh! You've crossed your leg to the left, you like her more than you like me!" And the fact that you're folding your arms because it's cold, or that if you crossed your legs the other way your foot would dangle in a turd, has absolutely no bearing at all on their Immense Knowledge.

See also: that guy who did one philosophy paper and now thinks he is Plato and goes on a lot about Humanity at parties; that guy who did one psych paper and now thinks he is Freud and tries to psychoanalyse everyone. These people are wieners.

Airbiters - You know, those people who laugh by throwing their head back, opening their mouth really wide and sort of chomping at the air. Pretty much always women. Pretty much always need a brick to the face. FNNARR FNAARR CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP BRICK!

"I liked them before they were popular" - I still find it slightly odd that people actually think discovering a band two months before the radio did makes them part of a secret elite group and that one day the band will show up for a concert and somehow know and maybe invite them to come on tour or something.

Street collectors who rattle the bucket - That's so fucking rude. I don't care if you are collecting for the best cause in the world*, if you're standing there shaking the bucket I'm going to GLARE at you and say, "Do I look like I want to save any fucking children?" and then I'm going to go to Hell and it is your fault. Also awful are collectors - usually Greenpeace ones - who lurk at the side of the footpath and then, when they see you approaching, spring out in front of you and shout, "HIIIII! Do you have a moment??" and try to sign you up to pay a monthly whale-saving tax. The only way to deal with them is to be rude, and I get angry about that because I do not like being rude (you know, in person). Also, any Greenpeace collectors who are reading: If you want to clean the planet, suggest you start at home. Your dreadlocks are stanky.

*Society for Prodigiously Talented Leprous Orphans who Love the Planet

People who fake accents in order to appear more interesting - I used to be in a band with a guy called Lorenzo (apparently his real name). Lorenzo said things like, "I want to get a bike, so I can just, like, cycle" and had a pronounced French accent despite being born and bred in NZ and having (from memory) one french parent, although perhaps it was only a half a French parent now that I think about it. As well as the pretentious accent - which came & went from time to time - his answer machine message was in French, despite the fact that the only people who spoke to him in French were his family. Lorenzo was a wiener.

See also: people who over-pronounce foreign words. I used to know a girl who awful at this - she had that completely unjustified arrogance/lack of self-awareness that is peculiar to the home-schooled, and she over-pronounced French words. "I went out for breakfast," she said once, "and had crepes-" but she said it "Claps" and everyone giggled and she became Very Angry and said, "It's FRENCH!!" She was a wiener too.

People who use Callback - for those of you lucky enough to not know, Callback is a phone function, used mainly by wieners, that enables you to make other people's phones call yours; say you call me and I'm on the phone, if you hit 'callback' it means that the second I finish my call, my phone will automatically start ringing you. Using callback is a dick move because oh, you're really so important that whatever I am in the middle of doing can be put off until I've spoken to you? Leave a fucking message, that's why I have an answerphone. See also: people who call and whinge, "Oh, it's so hard to get a hold of you, I always get the answer phone!" "Did you leave a message?" "No." Sigh. Wieners.

People who take up the whole sidewalk - There are usually 2 or 3 of them and they spread out and walk as slowly as possible (you never see people zipping along taking up the whole sidewalk, do you) and talk really loudly about stupid things and you can't get past even though you are trying to catch a bus or, you know, just get to the sushi place before rice becomes extinct. I hate these people so much. Sometimes when I finally pass them I find I am muttering darkly* to myself without even realising I'm doing it. Stop raising my blood pressure, you... you... pavement sloths.

*"for fuck's sake" is my standard Dark Mutter

James Blunt - John Mayer before it was cool. There is nothing about him which does not irritate me.

John Mayer, Emperor of the Wieners - This week's random dip into the infinite well of wienerdom has produced a surprising fact: John Mayer doesn't think anyone would actually dare call him a wiener to his face."What if I had a booth on the street and I said, 'Attention, everybody who hates me [...] Come out and let me have it. How many people do you think would be standing there? I'm talking about people getting the chance to tell me directly, 'I think you're a douchebag.' You know how many people would do it? Ze-ro. You know what they'd do? They'd walk up and say, 'I'm just messin' with ya.' And you know what I'd say? I'd say, 'You're a douchebag.'"

Make the booth! Make the booth! I will start the queue! I bet the queue to call John Mayer a douchebag to his face would be longer than the queue for John Mayer concert tickets. In fact, he could probably make more money just doing that. Maybe he should consider a career change. 'John Mayer, Professional Douchebag'- Oh. Wait.

25 comments:

I am absolutely with you on People Walking Slowly. I mutter too, and I make a big deal of trying to get past them, and then sigh loudly once I am past. But honestly. It is a PUBLIC WALKWAY, not a picturesque nature walk adorned with many fascinating species of plant that you need to stop and take in.

People who make fun of you when you have a REAL accent are wieners. I was born and raised in Britain, but lived in America before Canada, so I have a British accent with a slight southern tinge. However, people who think that whenever I say something, because it's in a British accent, they can start talking in a fake British accent and start making cracks about the word "rubbish."

I hate annoying collectors too! If I agree with your cause and want to give you money I will do it myself! You do not need to accost me to make me notice you! Argh!

Funny you should mention Greenpeace. Jenny and I had an incident with one of them once, he popped out in front of us as we were walking and WOULD NOT shut up! We just ended up running away while he was still talking! HAH!

YES. In my workplace, where we serve ciabatta, some asshole will alawys look pointedly at you and say "its pronounced CHOWBAAAATHA" and then I want to shove the bread tongs in his eyes.

Also in SA, we have beggars on basically every corner, which is sad, granted, but a few weeks ago when the bf told one that he had no cash on him, the guy started accusing us of being SELFISH. What? yes.

"For fuck's sake" is my favourite angry mutter too! And yes, I hate chuggers. I signed up to Red Cross for a while just to get the lady to shut the hell up because she was being so loud while trying to embarrass me into giving money that other people were actually staring across the street. Chuggers are guilt-tripping bastards.

I probably shouldn't comment when I'm drunk...

WV: comatedu. It's the *proper* way to pronounce "comedy" which is, of course, from the Old French meaning "FNNARR FNANNAR CHOMP CHOMP BRICK"

I know I am several months behind in your blog, and I apologise. However today was a particularly boring day at work so I decided to catch up... it made my day less boring. And then I read this post... I recall the "Claps" incident. It was hilarious. She was a weiner.

Pavement sloths get on my wik, too. Once a semi-famous, regally-named, pork-related indigenous comedian who I won't name was walking along the Ponsonby footpathwith his son and wanna-be gang dog doing the pavement sloth thing as I was on my run. I sort of scuffed and harrumphed behind them, trying to get past, and the alleged comedian said "Hey, the footpath's for everybody, pal."

And then, in one of the best zings of my life, I said "Yeah, that's sort of my point."